Fate of A Shooting Star: And the Walls Came Tumbling Down
by ImpossibleImpact
Summary: Chapter 4 of FASS:The unveiling of the Regeneration Keys, and the Omega Lock Legend, has brought the Decepticons and Autobots together for a final relic showdown as they struggle for the power to revitalize their dead planet. But one side is doomed to perish in the dust of the victorious, and even with a spy snuggled comfortably within enemy ranks, the Autobots need more than hope.
1. Chapter 1

**hey hey hey!**

**it's the fourth chapter! can you believe it?! cause i sure can't. and thank you, thank you, so much for hanging in there with me :) i know the last couple of entries have certainly strayed from the original concepts of the Transformers Prime story. on top of 30 ft talking robots, i introduced zeta relics and guardians, and have just introduced the latest one, where aulora had to sing to pass a test. now i know some of you were shaking your heads at that part, and saying what the hell is ImpossibleImpact doing?! let's throw in a pink Pegasus for good measure :)**

**you have to realize that my age was dancing around in the single digits when i first drew out the plots for most of these stories, im simply allowing my more advanced writing skills to revise and add detail. my inner kid would not let me walk away from properly introducing the character i so deeply cherished in all his glory; virbrim. at that means writing about aulora singing into a sparkling microphone. believed, i tried having sound as kick ass as i could. :) **

**so thank you all for not walking away from this story because of my little dose of pink and fairies in the last story. you guys are the bomb.**

* * *

**Greener Grass**

"Would it be too much to ask you to, oh I don't know, CLOSE YOUR MOUTH WHILE YOUR PROCESSING YOUR FOOD! Energon is milled quieter than you," the engineer exclaimed.

Aulora's eyebrows twitched in questioning, a large spoonful of sugary cereal halfway to her mouth, as the map maker next to him turned, scoffing.

"And yet we can't ask for a strainer for _your_ offensive mouth!?" she scoffed, crossing her arms across her chassis as the musician to the right of the engineer tiredly covered his digits over his face and weakly shook his head in defeat.

"Do you know how long they stayed up last night arguing like this?" the musician asked, turning to the human before him, who turned to him, full-mouthed, with a small smile on her face.

"Welcome to my life," she replied, roughly swallowing her food down to answer him.

"And you don't do anything about it?" he asked, almost cringing as the argument continued to ensue between the mech and femme beside him.

"There're two things you gotta know about them. One, Prevus is going to make an argument out of anything. He enjoys pushing peoples' buttons. He lives for it. And two, Stella is a fighter. When she's confronted, the horns are out," the young human explained, pointing her two fingers a top her head for emphasis.

Virbrim gave a warm, gentle smile as he watched the youngling before him return back to her bowl of nourishment. She had been one of the most interesting creatures to watch. Team Prime in itself was a group of natives and aliens that never ceased to excite the newest Zeta Guardian. However, Aulora had become the most fascinating of them all, seeming to be the most grounded and humble of them all, yet possessing a fierce loyalty and spark that could rival that of any mighty Prime.

And then to discover that it was, coincidently, the young Prime that had claimed this particular youngling as his human partner and friend made Aulora the most remarkable spark he had ever met. The Cybertronian society he had grown and prospered in contained mechs and femmes rich with exquisite talents and capabilities, yet that was as far as they got. These mechs and femmes were renowned scholars and artists of their time, yet they were no more captivating than a small crystal flower from Praxus. There was no depth, no substance to these creatures who had called themselves the greatest and the best their species had to offer. Yet it was this small, young alien before him, who had no more confidence to voice her opinions or thoughts than the young Prime had time to recharge, that made him wish it had been this tiny femme who had led Cybertron as a mighty Councilman or Prime.

Cybertron might still be there.

Virbrim turned back to the heated conversation beside his hologram, grumbling when he realized it was nowhere near its conclusion. "….kidding me?! I've heard Predacons recharge quieter than you!" Prevus countered.

"You lug nut! None of us were around to see the Predacons! Unless you truly are that old," she smugly replied, a victorious smile on her face at the sight of Prevus's livid expression.

"Why you little…!"

"You know, being their charge, you do have the ability to request their power down," Virbrim whispered over to the human, angling his hand to cover his mouth from the two Zeta Guardians before him.

The youngling's smile only grew larger, her eyes glimmering with the small glints of shiny marble within her countertop, Jasper's early morning sun slipping through her kitchen window and illuminating the large room.

"My house used to be so empty and quiet. These two alone make it sound like I'm harboring a circus in here. I don't mind it," she replied with a small giggle, Virbrim giving a small chuckle and shaking his head in amusement.

"Oh, by the way, your uncle contacted your communication device the other day and left a message confirming his arrival tomorrow evening," Virbrim added, watching with interest as Aulora's face seemed to falter in reaction, her gaze falling to her half empty bowl of breakfast before her.

"Word for the wise, Virbrim; never believe anything Uncle Chris says," she mumbled, her words barely caught by the musicians acute ears. "Carl Jung once said that the man who promises everything is sure to fulfill nothing."

* * *

She let out an annoyed sigh, her body slumping and sliding down against his leather seating, her two long bangs dancing from her large breath.

"I swear I am such a space cadet sometimes," she announced to the open cab, lazily crossing her arms across her chest as she examined the large, chipping sign sitting idly on Jasper High's front courtyard, its exchangeable letters proclaiming the late entry for high school and junior high students for the day.

"How did I forget Mr. Friar telling us that yesterday!?" she replied.

"It was unprofessional of them to not send out confirmation information regarding such a last minute schedule change," the radio responded, Aulora watching the Autobot symbol on his steering wheel flicker along with the sound of his voice.

She smiled, chuckling at the memory of the night Raf, a couple of months prior to, hacking into her uncle's email account to allow Optimus access to school emails and alerts as well, the Autobot leader politely and stoically angered to find most of them had been immediately moved to his account's trash. Over the course of a few months, Optimus had completely wormed his way into Aulora's life, taking on the responsibility of not only taking her to and from school, but also keeping tabs on her schedule, taking time out of his own when he believed she required a trip to the grocery store or was due for another dentist appointment. He had completely invaded her time, and she couldn't help but adore every second of it. The way he gently reminded her of upcoming tests on their drive to school or his dedicated arrivals at her house to help with the daily events of her life, ranging from routinely stops to the Super Walmart a few towns over to a rather sporadic outing to CVS at 11 o'clock at night for ZzzQuil, Advil PM and Theraflu.

She hated herself sometimes for becoming so hopelessly dependent on him. At first, she had fought it. She tried keeping him as distant from her life as possible. She limited their interaction to simply the car ride to and from school and even then she would divulge her thoughts sparingly. The more he gently pried the harder she pushed him away. She could feel it through their connection that it hurt him when she shut down and shut him out, and it sent an arrow through her heart every time. But she had been so desperate to show him that she never needed anybody, that she hadn't spent 5 years getting over her fears and pains all on her own to ruin it with an alien, that she tried to convince herself that she didn't care what he felt.

That was…until that fateful night.

The night she had a panic attack.

She had had them before.

It wasn't a totally new occurrence for her. She had powered through them before, learning how to keep her breathing steady on her own, usually getting them in bed or on a car ride alone. But that was the thing.

She hadn't had one for almost 4 years.

After the initial shock and trauma of the accident had worn off, the attacks seem to wear out as well. Of course, she had avoided riding cars for as long as she could remember, but aside from that, it felt like her life was falling back into place.

Until one rainy day in March when that had all ended.

To this day, she still didn't know how Bumblebee and Bulkhead's playful duel had triggered an attack. Although it most likely was the familiar sound of screeching metal, fibers grounding beneath a large weight, she had heard that sound almost every minute at base, and yet it had chosen that day to trigger a response.

She remembered walking down the empty hallway, begrudgingly playing hide-and-seek with Servo, absolutely bored to the bone, when the sound echoed from through the wall to her right, causing her to jump straight through her skin.

But the pitch, the tone, the length…the everything of the sound started to play back in her head. But the images of Bumblebee and Bulkhead had been replaced with a black Toyota Rav 4 and the asphalt of the highway. Suddenly, the screams of her family members were pounding mercilessly against her head, tears streaming down her face as her heart began to go into overdrive.

Suddenly, everything in her body had stopped. The invisible smell of fire and gasoline restricted her heart in a torturous grip, the fear of pain clenching her stomach tight. Her mouth fell limply open, as her heart desperately clung for air her lungs weren't willing to take in. She remembered feeling insurmountably light-headed, her entire body collapsing to the cool ground as she trembled rigidly into an indefinite haze, her vision almost completely blurry. She remembered trying to claw at her chest, feeling like something was on it, something was blocking air from getting through. She remembered she had tried screaming but her voice had hidden from her and her burning throat simply begged for something cold.

Her body continued to burn as she laid there helplessly on the ground. Her lungs ached and stung with fury for air while her head seemed to pound with the force of tsunami waves. Just as her mind had gotten heavily sleepy, her vision swirling into one massive color and her eye lids slowing closing shut, a bright splash of blue had entered her vision, the speed it was moving towards her with almost making her stomach fill with vomit. She remembered feeling her body raise from the ground, a gentle, curved form lifting her higher and higher until she felt she was in the sky.

Suddenly, amongst the fitful trembles of chaos her body was fighting through, amongst the painful torture her mind continued to anguish in, amongst her distressed heart, pleading for air, she remembered hearing…no feeling a movement.

It was solid and quick, appearing and leaving almost in the same space of time, almost never truly existing. Yet she felt it again. And again.

It had been Optimus's heartbeat.

Their connection had, only moments before, warned him that Aulora's mind had gone into a panic. Fearing she was in trouble or was hurt, he had placed the three humans, who were simply flipping through television channels, on ground bridge duty as he went to find his charge.

Upon seeing her and immediately assessing and confirming her condition, he had quickly scooped her up in his hands, sat himself against the side wall, and held her body right to his chassis, letting his steady spark beat guide her back into reality.

It had taken a while, longer than he had ever held a panic attack patient before. It was too common amongst the bases he had stayed at on Cybertron during the Great War and he had made it his priority to learn from, coincidently Ratchet back then, to show him how to help someone during the midst of one.

For a while, he didn't say a word, simply letting his spark speak for himself. Even when a half hour had passed, he continued to hold her close, trying to fight back his own tears from spilling out, overwhelmed by not only her pain that he felt through their connection but simply the thought that a youngling was trembling uncontrollably in his grasp by a condition he had never wanted to see a youngling possess.

When he finally felt her body take the most weakest and pitiable of breaths, her throat making a wheezing sound that made the mighty Prime's heart clench in sadness, he began quietly whispering to her. In the quietest of tones, he reassured her that everything was alright, that she was safe and that he wasn't leaving anytime soon. He waited patiently for her breathing to fall back into place, her eyelids slowly latching and unlatching as her brain began to come back to speed with the rest of her body.

Her eyes, after what had felt like to the young Prime to be millennium, slowly began to focus in on the things around her, slowly turning up to find him looking down at her, a small, compassionate smile on his faceplate below merciful optics. And they stayed there, for a little while longer, simply looking into each others' eyes, things within and beyond their comprehension passing between the two without a word said.

Not a word of the incident had been breathed to any of the other teammates, even to a suspecting Ratchet and June, both of which had acutely noticed the young McAllister's bloodshot eyes and somewhat paled face. When asked, Optimus simply noted that she had tripped and bruised her knee while running around the halls, playing with Servo, and the matter was left.

As the morning sun slowly slipped through the corner of Optimus's windshield, a shower of gold cascading over the leader's cab, Aulora mused to herself that it had been that event, that fatal event that had finally opened her eyes to the truth; she was whole-heartedly stuck with Optimus Prime. She was stuck with his stubborn and stoic lack of outward emotions, his almost immovable flat line expression, his critical view of almost everything he came across and his almost annoying sense of duty and responsibility.

But turning back to his now silent dashboard, she smiled at being stuck with a kind, humble, strong, wise, loyal guardian. If he was going to be an ironically emotionless robot, he was going to be _her_ emotionally devoid robot.

"Sometimes I wonder how I made it without you for an assignment planner," she gently replied, her voice as soft as the rays of the sun that continued to trickle in through the driver's window.

The truck beneath rumbled with the hint of a chuckle, Aulora almost melting at his familiar, baritone pitch.

"You do not give yourself enough credit, Aulora. You were fine before me," he replied, the ghost of a laugh behind his voice.

"You have too much faith in me, Optimus Prime. It's gonna get you killed one of these days," she replied with a small giggle.

He comically hummed in response. "I'll have to keep that in mind," he replied, Aulora smiling as she leaned comfortably back in his passenger seat and continued to watch Jasper awaken before her eyes as she waited within the cab of a blue and red trailer truck for her school day to commence.

* * *

"Smokescreen, what were you thinking?!"

The rookie's mouth frowned even deeper, looking almost irritably at the small front-liner beside him, her raging violet eyes mirroring the chaotic swirling of ground bridge colors beside her.

"Hey, I'm sorry alright!" he protested, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

He was never going to hear the end of this.

"Sorry isn't good enough! You almost had us killed because of a rookie mistake!" Arcee exclaimed rigidly bending her arms on her hips as the continued closer to the small dot of color of the base.

"What happened? Your communication links disabled halfway through the mission," Ratchet asked, turning from his central controls, his voice traveling to the duo as they approached the hangar.

"Smoke, here, thought it was good idea to start shooting in an unstable Energon mine, after I specifically told him not to!" Arcee exclaimed.

"In my defense, I wasn't near any Energon when I started shooting at the Cons," Smokescreen protested, Ratchet closing the ground bridge behind the two Autobot soldiers.

_"So, wait, no one brought back some munchies?"_ Bumblebee playfully retorted from his relaxed stance against the raised level of the base, Bulkhead throwing the youngling a dead-panned expression.

Arcee blatantly ignored the young Praxian's comment and turned back to Elite Guard student beside her with an accusing finger.

"Is that all it is with you!? Shooting at Cons!? There's much more to being an Autobot than just battling the Cons!" Arcee reprimanded.

"Ah, come on 'Cee, cut me some slack. We got outta there alive, didn't we?" he asked, plunging in his playful bantering mood, his hands comically in the air.

"Yeah, at the cost of over a mine and a half worth of valuable Energon! Cybertron may have been fully stocked of the stuff, but Energon is few and far between on this rock, if Megatron doesn't already have his slick claws around it!" she exclaimed, the mechs in the room smartly backing down from making any interrupting comments while their resident two-wheeler went into full reprimand-mode with the newbie. Everyone knew that it was the small, almost solitude front-liner that packed the biggest punch, even compared to the medic's great wrath. When Arcee was mad, no one messed with her.

But also considering the circumstances, everyone was itching to relieve some pressure off their chassis. With everyone so constrict-ly poised on edge over the issue of obtaining all of the keys, the base had been a little…edgy as of late. Though Team Prime kept best to never let this emotionally distraught side catch wind to their human counterparts, once their charges left, it hadn't been all too rare to find one of them in some type of heated argument over an issue neither side could particularly remember. With the pressure of their planet's possible resurrection laying on their shoulders, Team Prime had been slowly stumbling about the base with a fist gripped at their side, dormant and rugged emotions from previous lives on Cybertron suddenly coming to light as they began to fight against the Decepticons once more for the life of their planet.

"Alright, alright! I said I was sorry, didn't I?!" Smokescreen asked.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. We can't afford to be making stupid mistakes right now. With Energon reserves low and relics bouncing around that inflict a lot more damage that a simple punch, your little mistake just cost an injured teammate their life because we won't have the resources to help them!" she exclaimed, her thundering voice echoing throughout the base and silencing any and all activity.

And as her voice's echo slowly died down, the two-wheeler began to feel regretful as she watched the rookie's pained eyes watch her. It hadn't been his fault.

He was still so new to the idea of a military lifestyle. He had gotten no experience on Cybertron, and yet was thrown onto the battlefield on Earth with almost the unspoken expectancy he would quickly rise to their standards and help in the fray. But he was nowhere near close. He needed a teacher. Thrown half-blind into high-stake situations never helped any soldier learn, and it wasn't about to start with their Elite Guard trainee.

But who would teach him? Sure, the humans had him covered on blending in on Earth. But he needed lessons in knowing when to strike offensively and when to go into defensive mode. When and why to strike, along with the tactics of a successful escape route.

"You're a part of a team now, Smokescreen. Everything you do impacts the rest of us. So the next time you want to play pretend hero, you better do it alone, because you're not taking us down with you," Arcee declared, walking away and leaving her final statement settle in the new recruits mind.

* * *

"Guys!"

The medic, the two-wheeler, the Wrecker, the Scout and their charges turned to the young Japanese teenager as she came rushing through the ground bridge, a roll of paper grasped tight within her hand. She ran with great gusto up the steps to the higher level, where Jack was occupying the arm chair, a math textbook in his lap, and Raf was stretched out on the sofa, his laptop rested against his knees.

She jumped over the last few remaining steps, and skidded to a stop before her two human friends, the Autobots gathering around at the commotion as well.

"Did you know about this!?" she exclaimed, thrusting the magazine out flat between her two hands for the others to see. Raf fiddled with his glasses as he squinted at People magazine in her hands while Jack quickly scanned over the page's title and let his eyes mist over in an unreadable emotion.

"What does it say?" Raf asked.

"It's an interview with Aulora'a uncle, who answered questions about a car accident Aulora was in! It says here that it killed her mom, dad and aunt!" she exclaimed at the top of her lungs, her large hazel eyes pooling with a small traces of tears, as she looked between her teammates with raw uncertainty.

Bulkhead, Bumblebee and Arcee reeled back at the news, their eyes wide with fear as they desperately looked to each other for some type of reassurance that this was all just a misunderstanding.

_"That's impossible! They're living in Virginia!" _Bumblebee scoffed.

"Yeah. Aulora made a deal with her parents to finish up high school in Jasper with her uncle," Raf replied, but his wavering voice and slowly flooding eyes warned of his doubt, as his eyes stared perplexed at the magazine cover. The young 12 year old turned to the senior medic for reassurance, turning back to his raven-haired friend when he wasn't comforted by Ratchet's anguished face, only to find Jack's bearing a similar weight of utter grief.

The two-wheeler watched with a sick stomach as her partner's face grew grave and dark. Arcee placed her hands over her mouth as her balance swayed with uneasiness, her now useless throat letting a silent scream echo across her throat.

Lorelei.

She had been Cliffjumper's first human charge.

Cliffjumper had been living his last years under the assumption that Lorelei had simply moved, that he would be seeing her soon again.

How could she be dead?

It just…didn't seem possible.

Bulkhead let a low, saddened grumble escape his mouth as he placed a firm hand to his head, shaking it with the apparent impossibility of the situation, the young scout's eyes drooping pitifully.

Miko ran a shaky hand over her paled face, her sweaty palms carrying away the small droplets of water that had slowly began to pool from her eyes.

How could she have been so naive!?

She had not mere days before went on the biggest, complaining spree in front of Aulora, rudely whining about how Aulora's life was so much "cooler" than her own. The idea she had no one to answer to. The idea that she was in possession of her uncle's overflowing wealth. The idea that she seemed more acclimated to Team Prime than any of the other humans, and that she had Optimus for a protector.

Granted, she would never give up Bulkhead, but she couldn't help but feel almost _annoyed _at how brilliantly kick-ass Aulora's life seemed to be; the life Miko herself believed she needed. Someone as quiet, shy and obedient as Aulora didn't deserve a life like that. Someone who had a "wicked sense of imagination" as Miko had so eloquently put it, needed a life like that. Someone who would _enjoy _the resources she had at her finger tips.

She felt sick now, remembering how lightly she had ignored Aulora's almost dark and grim expression she held after Miko had gone through her pathetic little tirade. "The grass is always greener on the other side," Aulora had mentioned. Though the young Japanese teenager simply scoffed at it as did she to most of the other quotes and quips Aulora seemed to pull out of nowhere, she realized now the young McAllister couldn't have been more right.

The medic and eldest human turned with weary eyes to each other, a strong wave of grief passing between the two, both burdened with the responsibility of passing it on to their friends.

"I was at their funeral," Jack replied, his voice barely a hoarse whisper.

"Optimus had the intention of waiting until the time was right to inform you about this," Ratchet started, his voice heavy with a burdened grief.

"What do you mean he _waited_? He knew this whole time!?" Bulkhead exclaimed, suddenly turning gruffly to the medic.

"How did he not think this was our business to know!?" Arcee exclaimed.

_"Why didn't Optimus want to tell us?"_ Bumblebee asked, turning back to the medic.

"Inform you about what?"

The team turned quickly to the entrance of the base, the large Prime transforming and cautiously watch his team's rather saddened demeanor grow slowly darker as their eyes settled on him.

"Why didn't you ever inform us about the McAllisters' accident?" Arcee asked, her voice dark and heavy.

* * *

Breyers or Turkey Hill.

The ultimatum.

The end-all or be-all struggle of the day.

Forget the idea she had just spent the afternoon helping Ratchet recalibrate sensitive ground bridge wiring, a machine that could literally teleport any object or being to any continent, and location across the world, that could of blown her sky high with no more little than a small peck from her pliers. Forget the idea she had only a day ago spent the evening on a cliff with Smokescreen, a 30 foot, armed and highly skilled alien robot, sifting through passing cars for a vehicle mode, one he would then scan with his _eyes _and transform into. Forget the idea that she had just sat down with an interior designer, one who had had her fair share of clients, from Oprah to Celine Dion, to discuss decorating plans for _her _house. Forget the idea she had just scored front row, able-to-reach-out-and-touch-the-stage seats and VIP after-party tickets to Ariana Grande's sold out tour with the help of her all-mighty uncle and his connections.

Forget the idea she had just telepathically told her tall, transforming guardian that she would be out of the grocery store in roughly ten minutes.

The greatest struggle she would face that day would be whether her evening would be spent Netflix-ing with a box of Turkey Hill Cookie Dough ice cream or Breyers Cookies n' Cream ice cream.

Leave it to Daugherty's Super Market to bring a highly capable, alien ambassador, Prime partner, world traveler down to size with the humbling experience of choosing an ice cream flavor.

"You know, I heard the longer you stare at it, the yummier it tastes."

Aulora quickly turned to her left at the sound of a deep, husky voice, to find a familiar tan face leaning over her shoulder to peer at the ice cream freezer as well, her nose becoming intoxicated on his crisp, subtle cologne.

"Is that so?" Aulora asked with a small giggle, watching as the tall brunette extended to his full 5'11'' height to peer down at her with a playful, rugged smirk.

"Well, at least that's what my sister's Discovery Girl magazine said," he said shrugging, Aulora watching as his muscled shoulders eased beneath his relaxed white t-shirt.

"So you like tween girl magazines?" she chuckled, turning back to the ice creams before the attractive teenager beside her figured out she was starting to madly blush.

"Sure. Between Mark Twain's old English and Lee Child's kick-ass story lines, you need a little down time with some crushable 5 Seconds of Summer posters and helpful do's and don'ts to getting your crush's attention," he casually responded. He leaned lackadaisically against the cool fridge door, turning back to the small girl with a playful smirk and Aulora couldn't help but feel her heart quicken to a lively, twittering pattern as her cheeks noticeably heated.

"So what will it be? Crushed sprinkles of Oreo or raw cookie dough balls?" he asked smartly, slowly getting lost in the girl's pale blue eyes, wishing he could reach out and brush her large, side bangs away, so the whole world could see the beauty she so expertly hid.

"Well, when you say it like that, I might just end up buying some frozen yogurt," she responded with a small smile, her heart pounding forth from her chest as his eyes brightened and he let out a deep, warming chuckle.

"See, now there's an idea," he announced, pointing resolutely at her, "a little bit of flavored, live bacteria will definitely kick off your night."

"What do you want, Mark?" she asked, her cheeks matching her tomatoes in her basket as the tall sophomore casually wrapped his arm around her shoulder and leveled his eyes with hers, the caged butterflies in her stomach suddenly gaining freedom.

"Honestly, I'm bored. Mom's still in the spices aisle trying to decide between 3 different flavors for chicken tonight, all of which I cannot and will not pronounce," he said, comically sagging his shoulders, desperately wanting to keep his arm around her and her face inches from his but respectively pulled it away along with his face.

But not too far.

"But also to ask you something. My grandparents are having a 50th wedding anniversary party this weekend at a yacht club over in San Francisco and I was wondering if you'd like to be my plus one. Nothing fancy or anything, I just need a buddy as I'm pulled brutally through an afternoon of Daddy Dearest stuffing people's asses with sugar-coated stories about his incredible company and Mother's pride-filled talks of her ever successful children," he replied.

Aulora struggled hard to suppress her ever persistent, foolishly charmed giggles as she watched a mother quickly grab her kids and rush over to another aisle, glaring at new students for his colorful language out-burst.

"Successful children? Clearly she hasn't seen your latest math test grade," she smarted, almost cringing as she heard the weak, wobbliness in her voice.

"Great Gatsby, I think I just witnessed Aulora McAllister actually use sarcasm!" he mockingly exclaimed, placing a hand to his chest, Aulora noting the solid impact it made with his evenly toned chest.

_Keep it together, Aulora, _she desperately thought to herself.

"Did you just say Great Gatsby?" she asked.

"Oh come on! Like you haven't dropped any dated quips," he responded, almost melting at the immaculate smile that continued to adorn her face.

"Nothing from Fitzgerald, no," she replied.

The two continued to simply watch each other, giddy smiles plastered on both their faces, until Mark finally broke the comfortable silence.

"So, jokes aside. Can you please be my plus one? The ever egotistical Billionaire Boy is in dire need of his ever trusty, humble partner, the Mute One," he replied, comically getting down on one knee before her, chuckling as Aulora fought hard to control her sudden urge to fiercely giggle.

"Well, when you put it like that…" she replied, rolling her eyes in mocking thought.

"Free food?" she asked.

"Only the best."

"Then I'm in," she replied.

"Ugh, thank you! I'll give yah the info on Monday in Chem. You're the best!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands on her shoulder, his eyes locked on hers with immense gratitude before he took off back down the aisle, waving good bye, leaving the poor, fumbling girl awkwardly waving farewell in return her heart a stuttering mess on the clean tile beneath her.

The rest of her time at the super market, for Aulora, was a complete blur. Had she picked up the detergent? What about the peanut butter? She was surprised she actually had a clear enough mind to pay the cashier at the end. It was all a hazy blur, her heart sputtering out of control as her cheeks continued to flush from aisle to aisle. Her feet felt as if they were walking off the ground, catching a drift and floating off. Her mind was in ecstasy, a numb smile plastered haphazardly on her face, her eyes glinting with passion.

The Ater Tigris couldn't help but chuckle at the state his human friend was in as she exited the grocery store, watching with humor as she almost walked straight into a plant booth, stumbling over small heaves in the sidewalk until making her way behind the dumpsters, where he stood patiently waiting for her.

He watched, amused as she silently climbed onto his lowered back, a giddy smile still spread wide across her face.

"You look like you've been sneaking hard high grade from Wheeljack's secret stash," he lightly commented.

"What happened?"

The small, human cub could only smile more, letting out a content sigh.

"I'm his plus one."

* * *

Had he made the right decision? The previous situation had deemed in need of it. But now…he did not feel as convinced. Who was he to hold back information such as that, as sensitive as that? The decision should've been left to Aulora to make. But her almost eager compliance to his idea begged the young Prime to believe that even if it had been left up to the discrepancy of the young McAllister, the information wouldn't have been readily divulged as well.

But he needed to be the bearer of the information. As much as he currently belittled himself for thinking an obstacle like this couldn't be dealt with at a requested time, his team was not ready to hear the news at that time. They were all new to Earth, and the first few months had been raw to deal with as his team fretted over Cliffjumper's life in the hands of an alien species. Cybertron was declared uninhabitable and Earth, at first, seemed almost an insult to their former planet. Pristine, glorious metal roadways had been replaced with uneven, rubbery tar that burned their tires during the hot summers. Glorious, shimmering buildings had become small particles of dirt that seemed to disgust everyone. Metal was scarce on the planet, most of it composed of organic, meshy material that annoyed everyone.

No one had liked Earth.

But the McAllister's had changed that. Lorelei became an undying source for his team. Upon first meeting her through wireless communication during the months Cliffjumper had spent in recovery at her residency after his brutal crash landing on Earth, the Prime could easily see she would be an able and helpful ally for his team. While continually updating him with Cliffjumper's progress, Lorelei had slowly begun to relay to Optimus the 'tricks and trades' as she had put it, to living on Earth, his first lesson being that their Cybertronian vehicle modes would raise too much suspicion for a team that was trying to work under the radar. By the time Cliffjumper was well enough to travel back to base, Ratchet at that time still mid-construction of the ground bridge, Lorelei and the red Autobot had become very close, and Cliffjumper had wormed it into his daily routine to visit Lorelei or even bring her to base. When he was sectioned to a different continent, it was to be expected he was communicating with her wirelessly. Arcee had even made the joke that Lorelei had stolen her partner.

And then there was Aulora.

When it had come to Optimus's attention that during his stay at Lorelei McAllister's residence, her young, 9 year old niece had stumbled upon Cliffjumper, the Prime invited the youngling to visit the base.

Her first of numerous visits had been nothing short of marvelously humbling. It had taken Team Prime a very extended period of time to come to grip with the alien species that had now intermingled with their lives. It was awkward, in the smallest of terms, for both parties. Though Lorelei and Cliffjumper got along swimmingly, Arcee sometime later adjusting to her as well, the rest of the Autobots kept their distance.

But it had been the small little Aulora, eyes big and smile wide, that had wormed its way into every one of their sparks.

The young Prime even remembered himself, down-trodden at the time of heavy losses from all corners of his life, slowly picking up the small human in his hands and smiling to himself, his heavy heart almost to the brink of tears. It had felt like all of his worries, all of his pains had washed away at the sight of such a young, fragile soul, with a smile so divine-like and eyes so full of vivacity.

And to have the gift of seeing her every day, that beautiful spirit and life still pouring unrelentingly from her, was in itself one of the greatest gifts he had ever received.

The young Prime turned to his left, disturbed from his deep thoughts by a great rushing of wind, its great gusts familiar to the ones nestled beneath the wings of an aircraft. He watched as a dark purple mass slowly transformed, its hefty weight shaking the ground as they made a distinguished landing.

The transformer formally bowed its head to the Prime. "Optimus," they greeted.

The Prime returned a similar gesture. "It's been some time, Skyquake," he replied.

"I apologize, Optimus. Ever since Proditor's return, security aboard the Nemesis has been nothing but relenting. Megatron fears that a living Decepticon rebel will stir defiance amongst his armada," the Seeker informed, passing Optimus to the edge of the high cliff, looking out at the wondrous, arid expanse before him, the golden sun just touching down with the land below it.

"Were you followed?" Optimus asked.

Skyquake shook his head. "No. As of now, I am simply taking a much needed fly and my energy signature is currently soaring at 350 clicks per hour across the Atlantic Ocean," he informed, turning back to the Prime.

"What intel have you gained since your last debriefing?" the Prime asked.

The Seeker shook his head in a heavy emotion the Autobot leader could not read. "Megatron, I fear, is preparing for a cataclysmic event that has the entire ship shrouded in doubt. No one knows what's happening, but he has Soundwave permanently locked onto a computer and it seems as if he as almost completely lost interest in the Iacon Relics," he replied gravely, looking at his leader straight in the eye.

"I fear deeply of what has such a hold on his concentration that it distracts it from obtaining the Relics, a project not weeks ago he had been completely devoted to," Skyquake continued.

"What of the Regeneration Keys?" Optimus pushed further.

"As of now, you have one, as do we. According to legend, there still remains 2 more, where ever they are. That though, Megatron has not given up on. He has created squadrons of Vehicons and Seekers for immediate response to any possible energy signatures matching those of the keys," Skyquake continued.

"So then we are to believe that Megatron is convinced of the legend behind the keys and what they're capable of accomplishing," Optimus pondered aloud.

"He needs them for something," Skyquake replied.

The Prime let out a heavy sigh, clasping his hands habitually behind his back whenever he was deep in thought, his shoulders noticeably sagging.

"Do you have anything else to report, Skyquake?" Optimus asked.

"Only that Megatron is in possession of two relics, Optimus, that can only be operated by a Prime; the Forge of Solus Prime and the Star Saber. He fears of their power once they fall into your hands," he replied.

Optimus's eyes subtly piqued with interest at the mention of both titles, hearing numerous stories of legendary tales regarding the immensity of their power.

"They would have the capacity to greatly change the tide of this war in the Autobots' favor," Optimus commented aloud.

"Indeed. Which is precisely why I plan on confiscating them."

Optimus turned baffled to his teammate, but his pending lecture was silenced by Skyquake's outstretched hand.

"Forgive me, Optimus, but I must relinquish these items from Megatron. I don't know how to explain it, but whatever Megatron is planning of this moment, I fear it is the greatest obstacle we, Autobots, have faced since the Great War," he replied.

The Autobot leader closed his mouth and listened to his loyal spy.

"Megatron would not commit so many resources and opportunities if he was not completely convinced that this objective would not carry out the intention he's had ever since he stormed the High Council's Chambers; complete eradication of the Autobots. You must prepare, Optimus, to encounter the end," he darkly proclaimed.

"I see," the Prime responded. "Are you acquainted with the protocols if a final time, as you have just mentioned, befalls the Autobots ?"

"Indeed, Optimus," the Prime able to pick up at the small traces of subtle fear that had befallen his soldier's face.

"For now, Optimus, simply be prepared for any incoming comm. messages from myself. Soundwave is too preoccupied to sift through soldier comm. links. Keep your goal set on obtaining those keys, for I believe they play a great part in Megatron's plan. I, for now, will see what I can do about the Forge and the Saber," he replied. A small smile crossed his faceplates.

"How is the team faring?" he asked.

Optimus nodded. "Impatient to return home."

Skyquake released a small chuckle. "I would expect nothing less. I just hope that I will be able to meet them soon," he responded.

"As I hope, as well, Skyquake," the Prime replied.

The large Seeker turned his attention back toward the sky, the two beings now shrouded in dusky shadows atop the cliff.

"I believe I have spent enough time on break," he quipped, turning back to Optimus.

"It was a pleasure seeing you once again, Optimus."

"Likewise Skyquake. Good luck, old friend and please stay safe," Optimus responded, nodding curtly to the soldier.

The midnight jet gave a firm salute before leaping straight forth from the ground beneath him and transforming, quickly taking off and disappearing into the purple, evening sky, leaving the mighty Prime to sit and ponder over his heavy thoughts as a brisk, Spring chill settled in the air.

* * *

**so love it? hate it? leave me comments**


	2. IMPORTANT MESSAGE

Hello!

This is being posted to all of my stories; Fate of A Shooting Star, Of Purple Heart and Skin and The Eternal Supernova Theory. If this actually gets posted is the real challenge. For the past several months, I have been trying to update with new content for my three storylines, but with no success. Copy-N-Paste, File Upload, Drafts, you name it, it doesn't go through. I've contacted support several times, but I've received no response. However, all of my stories are being uploaded and updated on Archive of Our Own. You can find it there. Sorry again for the inconvenience and thank you all for the unending praise and support!

Love,

ImpossibleImpact


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